


Avowed

by Pares (kormantic)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s06e15 Arcadia, F/M, First Kiss, Grocery Store Epiphanies, Relationship Negotiation, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-03
Updated: 1999-05-03
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9365792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kormantic/pseuds/Pares
Summary: A proposal that has nothing to do with weddings.





	

Mulder had stopped by the grocery store on his way home. He needed toothpaste, tortilla chips and a bottle of orange juice.

In the Health and Beauty aisle, the wide plastic tube caught his eye. A woman's face masked in green covered most of the label.

He unscrewed the cap and sniffed it.

His hand clenched unconsciously and a fair amount of the green gunk spilled over his knuckles.

It smelled like cucumbers and... something his mind attributed to the "kelp" listed in the ingredients. It smelled fresh and earthy at once. It smelled... like Scully.

Screwing the cap back on and stuck it in his wire basket, he wiped his hand absently on the hip of his khakis.

Mulder handed the cashier a twenty and wandered out before the clerk could hand him his change.

*

He found himself at her door without any real understanding of why he was there.

Ever composed, even in her pajamas, Scully didn't seem surprised to see him, but then Scully had seen many things more unexpected than Mulder in khakis and a polyester jogging warm-up.

Although admittedly, not many.

"Mulder, what--"

He brushed past her without letting her finish and she closed the door behind him, something speculative and reluctant in her eyes.

Before she could speak, he held up the soft plastic tube.

"Is this the right stuff?"

Scully tipped her red head slightly, stepped forward and took the product from his hand, holding it up to examine it as she might look at a sample in a test tube.

"Yes. Yes, it is." She frowned at Mulder; she looked like she was wondering if he was running a fever, or under the influence of a psychotropic drug. Maybe she would ask for a sample she _could_ study in a test tube... "Don't tell me you're here for a facial?"

"I'm here..." He ran a hand through his most recent bad haircut and sighed. "I'm not sure why I'm here. Look-- Scully--" Mulder slumped on her couch, his hands hanging between his knees. He looked up at her appealingly.

"Scully, we'd be a lousy married couple."

Crossing her arms across her chest, Scully waited with admirable restraint for Mulder to come to the point. When that didn't happen, she prodded him gently.

"And you're telling me this because...?"

"Because the mundanities of day to day existence would drive us apart more quickly and more finally than any Conspiracy against us."

After a long, thoughtful silence, Scully nodded.

"I'd have to agree with that assessment, Mulder." His face was lined, miserable at her accord, so she tried to soften its bedrock truth. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I could never live with a man who willfully refuses to squeeze his toothpaste from the bottom of the tube," she said tenderly.

He seemed to rally at that. His golden hazel eyes widened.

"Yes. Yes, exactly. We could never _live_ together..."

Scully looked as if he'd somehow offended her with his vehemence.

"Is this good news or bad, Mulder? Because I can't tell."

Mulder climbed out of her deep couch and walked forward to close his hands around her upper arms.

"I'm not sure yet," he said urgently, searching her eyes. "I'm not sure yet... But I think... I think it could be good. We can never marry, Scully," he declared, regret and excitement warring in his tone.

She blinked at him; his fingers tightened.

"Do you mean each other, or in general?"

"Both," he responded. "But we can..." He paused, glanced over her shoulder as if looking for inspiration, licked his lips and took a deep, steadying breath. "But we could be... I think we can be more... than we are."

Scully's blue eyes widened, and then widened some more, as alarm and realization tightened her fine features.

"Mulder... you want us to become lovers?"

He nodded, eyes trained on hers, scouting for any sign of hope. His hands relaxed, and began to softly brush up and down her arms, as if trying to massage an affirmative response from her.

"Scully, I know you love me. Wait-- that sounded wrong. You know I love you... I _feel_ confident--" He paused, and the mad spark in his eyes flickered a moment, "Fairly confident that you return that love."

She gave him a subtle, encouraging nod, her brows tensing warily.

"But I think the reason we've never... gone to the next level... is the unconscious knowledge that a standard, traditional 'marriage' would never work for us. So we tried to be happy with what we had. And what we have is... I don't have words for it, Scully--" he hastened, "But I know I've never experienced anything like it before, and that I never will again."

His hands stilled again, and Mulder stooped so that his gaze was level with hers.

"But we don't have to _do_ it the traditional way, Scully."

Her lips quirked slightly, although her eyes were overbright and her voice was husky.

"Mulder, you do know that the missionary position is the only one accepted by the Catholic Church?"

Mulder's own eyes gleamed, and he tucked her under his chin.

"God, I love you, G-Woman..."

She only let him hold her for a distressingly short amount of time before gently working her way out of his grasp.

"Mulder... I think you've had a startling insight into our relationship. And I want you to know... I want you to know that I _do_ love you--" And she nearly stammered. "But... I will never do your laundry."

Nodding, Mulder stalked toward her, tugging at the belt of her white terry robe, revealing her gray sweats and oatmeal thermal shirt.

"Or your dishes..."

"We'll eat out. A lot," he promised, as he bent to brush her forehead with his lips.

"And your clothes and your junk and those videos will _stay_ at your place..."

"I'll live in my car," he volunteered. "Get a valet." His fingers threaded through her hair, soft and un-styled from a recent shower.

"And Mulder..." She cupped his face gently but firmly, making herself heard. "You're bringing your own toothpaste."

He laughed then, eyes crinkling, his lush mouth revealing fine, strong teeth.

"Always," and he kissed her warm, yielding mouth for the very first time.

For a long moment they stood very still, lips soft, and bodies close. It was a moment so long expected that Mulder had somehow feared it would be... anticlimactic.

He was glad to be wrong.

His eyes drifted shut, and his hands tightened in her hair. Her hands were folded behind his neck, and he realized she was standing on tiptoe in her white socks. He counted to three and then let her go, slowly, his mouth refusing to let the shape of the kiss leave his lips for some moments after he had actually stopped kissing her.

She looked shocked, as if he'd slapped her, or arrived on her doorstep naked except for his stocking cap.

"I... I... Mulder." She swallowed, and blushed, turning her head. "I'm embarrassed to say it... But..."

"Yeah, I know. I thought that after all that hype, it would just be... _nice_."

She was nodding, and stepped forward to press her palms to his chest, lifting her chin to explain herself in earnest.

"That's it. That's it exactly. I didn't think... we had any left. You know? After that disaster in the Falls... I... Mulder I... I'd given up on you."

Mulder had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"I was a horse's ass. I can't explain it. But I can apologize for it," he offered hopefully. Then he continued, abashed. "Unfortunately, I can't guarantee it won't happen again."

She smiled then, the first real smile he'd seen on her face since he'd told her their undercover noms de guerre.

"Mulder, I didn't expect to find that I was still sexually attracted to you. I certainly didn't expect miracles. 'Rob'."

Mulder gave her his best smug grin.

"You're lucky you're Dana Scully, lady. I don't think Laura's significant other ever went down on _her_..."

Scully's face was caught, a fascinating blend of amusement and expectant desire.

"Happily, my name is not now, and never will be, Mrs. Rob Petrie."


End file.
